《Birdcage》 Chapter I - Darkness, or: the death of a mother Memory is a fickle thing. I cannot imagine how many things I have forgotten over the course of my life. Entire days, good and bad alike, have become consigned to oblivion by the passage of time. Days spent laughing and drinking with friends have disappeared like rain after the storm has ceased. Even the faces of people who were once so dear to me have begun to fade away. But, that being said, there are a few days that I will never forget. The first of these days came when I was seven years old. That was the day my mother died. I was born in a small fishing village on the bay of a large lake, a dozen miles from the nearest town. I can still remember the color that lake shined in the light of morning and the smell of the trees at the beginning of spring. Forgive me for being sentimental, but I cherish the memories I retain from my youth. Back then, I lived alone with my mother. She was a smart, friendly woman who worked as a waitress at a bar near our home. She worked long hours, deep into the nights so that she could make enough to give me a decent life. I remember her being constantly exhausted, but keeping a cheery smile on her face for me. As a kid, I didn¡¯t really understand why she did the things she did. Now that I have grown up and matured, I know the great depths her love for me went. It was a day sunny outside, the day my mother died. It¡¯s funny, if you think about it, that the weather would be so good on such a horrible day. You always think that, when darkness comes, a storm will accompany it. But, in my experience, sunny days are often the most painful. My mother in I lived in a small house near the woods. I must confess, I skipped school to play in those woods far too often. In those woods there stood a large oak tree that stretched far into the sky. I was a young boy, so I spent my days trying to climb it, as young boys do. On that sunny day in March, all those years ago, I ditched school and ran to that massive tree. When I got there I noticed a small bluebird, perched atop the tallest branch of the tree. Although I had tried to climb the tree many times before, I had never successfully made it to the top. I don¡¯t know why, but when I saw that bird at the top of the tree, I knew that that would be the day where I finally made it to the top. So I started climbing. Bit by bit, I rose higher and higher up that massive tree. I almost slipped a few times, but luckily managed to catch myself before falling. Then, I made it. I stood atop that tree, triumphant. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. From the top of that tree, I could see the entirety of the village. I could even see the Capitol, the greatest city in all of Cieleta. I turned to look at the bluebird and smiled. The bird stared at me inquisitively, unsure if I was friend or foe. Suddenly, it took flight and left me alone atop that tree. It wasn¡¯t the only bird to flee; every animal in that forest took flight at the same time, running from horrors I couldn¡¯t see. I searched the forest, trying to find the source of their fear. Off in the distance, I noticed something strange. A funnel of black wind, swirling around a town on the other side of the forest. When I saw the wind, a feeling of dread grabbed my heart and refused to let go. I knew that something bad was about to happen. The funnel expanded, encroaching on the woods. Violet lightning spewed from the funnel, striking trees. Then, the wind and lightning subsided. For a moment, I thought I was safe. Then the forest began to shake, and a hurricane of black wind erupted from where the funnel had stood. The eruption knocked me off the tree. I fell on my arm and heard the crunch as it snapped. I suppose, looking back, breaking my arm must have been painful. However, I was far too preoccupied to notice. I stared at the sky and saw black clouds that blacked out the sun. I stared at those clouds, into the all-consuming darkness that had enveloped my world, and was afraid. I struggled to breathe as the air turned stale and heavy, like poison that burned my lungs. Eventually, the clouds dispersed, allowing sunlight to pour through the trees. I saw what remained of the forest. The trees were grey and free of leaves, and the grass beneath me was dead and yellow. I could hear no birds chirping, nor the sound of the wind rustling through the trees. All that remained was the putrid remnant of death. Fear filled my heart as I fled from the forest. I ran back into town. The once busy village was silent, free from any commotion. I saw carts full of goods left unattended, with even their horses missing. Piles of grey dust were scattered throughout the street. I ignored these things as I sprinted for my home. I ripped open the door of our small cottage. My mother was lying on the ground, her face pale. Her right hand tightly gripped a small letter. I ran over to her and she smiled. ¡°Ernest, you¡¯re okay,¡± she said. ¡°That¡¯s...fantastic.¡± Those were the last words she ever spoke to me. She closed her eyes for the final time. I felt tears streak down my face. Her body withered away into dust, leaving me alone. I don¡¯t quite remember what happened after that. I blacked out. The next day, they found me have dead outside the Capitol. Apparently, I¡¯d walked there in my daze. My arm healed, but the wounds in my heart lingered. I was the sole survivor of my village. All of the others were reduced to dust. People called my survival a miracle. It never felt like that to me. I was forced to live with the grief of witnessing so much pain. If anything, surviving was a curse, one that festered within me and drove me mad. The day that the sky turned black became known as the Purge. Across the world, cities were reduced to dust by storms and lightning, leaving only a third of Magpur''s population alive. Eventually, I learned that the Purge was caused by two warlocks trying to play God. The good people of Cieleta didn¡¯t take kindly to warlocks slaughtering their people and outlawed all forms of dark magic. Two years after the Purge, Cieleta invaded Arbum, a neighboring country home to the world¡¯s greatest warlocks. Streets ran red with the blood of dead dark mages. After Abrum was reduced to ash, peace finally came to my country. At least, for a while. All though we didn¡¯t know it at the time, the Purge was but a precursor to a much greater tragedy, one that I would play a part in causing. Chapter II - Dreams, or: the driving force behind my actions. I was born in a village called Vox in the country Cieleta on the continent of Magpur. Cieleta was a decent sized country centered around a large lake. It was home to plains, forests, and rivers full of resources that fueled our economy. Scattered around Cieleta, dozens of villages and towns stood, surrounded by a wall designed to keep out monsters. Ah, yes, you probably have never encountered monsters. Monsters were violent creatures made of darkness and magic that roamed forests and hid in caves. Some crawled from the sea, some marched from icy plains, some flew down from the tops of mountains. Regardless of their home, all monsters shared a single common trait: the hatred of humanity. They hunted humans, not for food or survival, but for the sheer pleasure of the kill. These beasts were, for most of our existence, humanity''s greatest adversary. It must seem strange, to someone like you who comes from a world so different from our own, to imagine the concept of monsters. But, for us, they were just a part of life. Although we feared monsters, by the time of my birth they were no longer a great threat. Humanity was able to not just survive, but thrive in Cieleta, primarily due to the existence of an organization known as the Knights of Cieleta. The Knights handled many duties for the country of Cieleta. They were our law enforcement, our soldiers, our explorers, and our heroes. If the King needed something done, they were the ones to get it done. Every kid I knew wanted to be a knight. My drive was greater than most. My grandfather, James Zuckerman, was one of the most revered knights in the history of our nation, because he managed to kill the vampire king when he was younger. My father wasn¡¯t around when I was a kid. When I was ten, I finally worked up the courage to ask what happened to him. He showed me an old photo of a young man with blonde hair and a smirk on his face. My grandfather, tears in his eyes, told me that my father had died in battle when I was three. I had a lot of reasons for wanting to be a knight. I didn¡¯t just want to be a knight because of some misguided dream of glory, like so many other children. I wanted to be a knight because my father had been one, and my grandfather had been one, and his father had been one, and so on. From a young age, the idea of being a knight didn¡¯t seem like a dream so much as an inevitability, a destiny that I gladly accepted. Of course, the glory of being a knight did play a small part in my dreams. After I came to live with him, my grandfather spent hours each night telling me stories of great heroes he knew when he was a knight. His words stuck with me. They made me feel like there was good in the world. A lot of good knights were killed by the Purge and the Abrumian Crusade. I didn¡¯t really hang out with other kids much after the Purge, but when I did hang out with them, I noticed a change from when I was younger. I never met another child who wanted to be a knight. The dreams of knighthood had disappeared, replaced by the dread of dying in the next Purge. An often overlooked horror of the Purge was the pessimism it created. People stopped planning for their futures. Why have dreams of tomorrow when you¡¯re scared of dying in your sleep. To be fair, some people used their fear to fuel their passions, turning the fact that they could die any day into a reason to live life to its fullest. These people had a bad tendency to drink themselves to death or get eaten by monsters while climbing mountains. The Purge didn¡¯t dissuade me from wanting to be a knight. In fact, it made my desire to be a knight even stronger. I¡¯m not proud to admit this, but the Purge taught me an emotion that no child should have to feel: hatred. Two warlocks, Nathaniel Black and Jericho Darkholme, took everything from me. My home, my mother, my innocence. All turned to dust in an instant. I hated those men. I dreamed of making them suffer. And the Knights? They could give me the strength necessary to get my revenge.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. I used my hate as fuel. It burned within me, giving me the strength I needed to push myself to the limit. I dedicated my days to training and studying, all so I could become strong enough to get my revenge. My grandfather, when he was younger, was a master swordsman. He passed these skills down onto me through years of training. On the night before my exam to become a knight, my grandfather invited me out into our garden. ¡°What do you need?¡± I asked. His strike was quick, cutting through the hem of my shirt in a single instant. Instinctively, I jumped back. ¡°Nice reflexes,¡± he muttered. ¡°What was that?¡± I asked. Instead of answering me, he kicked me in the leg and struck me in the head with the broadside of his sword. I fell to my knees and he swung his sword down, stopping only inches from my head. He sighed. ¡°Real opponents won¡¯t hesitate to kill you, Ernest,¡± he said. My grandfather walked away from me and stood by a large tree in the middle of the garden. I noticed that a sword, stored safely in a scabbard, was sitting at the base of the tree. My grandfather pointed his blade at me. ¡°Let¡¯s play a game, Ernest,¡± he said. ¡°If you can defeat me, I¡¯ll let you take your exam tomorrow and become a knight.¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t seem very fair, making me force you without a weapon,¡± I said. ¡°Life isn¡¯t fair.¡± With that, he dashed towards me and swung his sword. I ducked to dodge his swing and punched him in the stomach. He retaliated by bringing his sword down on my head, hitting me with its broadside, and kneeing me in the mouth. ¡°In a real fight, you¡¯d be dead,¡± he said. ¡°Let¡¯s go again.¡± I lunged at him and he stepped out of the way. I crashed face first into the dirt and he hit me in the back with his sword. ¡°Come on, Ernest, you¡¯re smarter than this,¡± he said while walking back to the tree. ¡°Use your head.¡± I gritted my teeth. ¡°You¡¯re getting mad,¡± he said. ¡°Of course I am!¡± I yelled. ¡°You¡¯re beating me up for no reason.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t let anger cloud your head. Make a plan and execute it. Otherwise, you¡¯ll never beat me. Understand?¡± I took a deep breath and let the air flow through my body. I closed my eyes and thought about the situation. I couldn¡¯t beat him without a weapon, that much was clear. But, to get to the sword by the tree, I¡¯d need to run past him without being hit. I smiled. The solution was obvious, once I¡¯d realized it. ¡°I¡¯m going to end this right now,¡± I shouted. ¡°Bold words. Let¡¯s see if you can back them up.¡± I charged at him and dove at the ground, grabbing a flower the second I hit my knees. I rolled out of the way to avoid a downward strike and threw the flower at my grandfather, hitting him in the face. In his moment of blindness, I rushed past him, grabbing the sword by the tree and drawing it from its scabbard. I turned around to see my grandfather swinging his sword. Our swords collided. He twisted his arm around mine, grabbing my blade and knocking me into the tree. He stabbed his sword at me and I caught it in the scabbard. I twisted my arm, ripping his sword from his hands, and grabbed my sword from the ground. I swung it at him, hitting him in the forehead with the broadside of the blade. He fell to his knees and I saw a trickle of blood dripping from his forehead. ¡°Are you okay?¡± I asked. He smiled. ¡°I¡¯m so proud of you Ernest,¡± he said, reaching in to give me a hug. ¡°You¡¯ve grown into a fine young man. To be honest, when you told me you wanted to be a knight, I was less than thrilled. It¡¯s a dangerous life. But, you¡¯ve shown me that you¡¯re more than capable of protecting yourself.¡± He led me into his bedroom and opened up his closet. Inside sat a shining suit of white and gold armor and a sword with a golden hilt. ¡°When I was a knight, I wore this armor and wielded this sword,¡± he said. ¡°The armor is made of mithril. It¡¯s light yet tough, and specially designed to resist magical attacks. The sword is a family heirloom sharp enough to cut through steel. I entrust them to you, Ernest.¡± That night, my journey as a hero began. A journey that would bring me to the ends of the earth and push me to my breaking point. It¡¯s funny, looking back at how naive I was back then. I have often wondered what would have happened if my grandfather had not allowed me to become a knight. Would things have still ended how they did? Ultimately, the question is meaningless. There is no sense in worrying about events that have long since passed. Besides, if I¡¯m being honest, I would have become a knight even if my grandfather forbid me to. After all, becoming a knight was my dream. Chapter IV - Downswing, or: the wager that should not have been taken Cross and Firebrand led us into the castle throne room, a large open hall filled with golden pillars and crystal chandeliers. Hanging from the walls were paintings of long-dead royals. A scarlet carpet led to a staircase at the end of the room. Atop the stairs sat a golden throne, and atop the throne sat his majesty, King Tasciovanus von Cieleta. We bowed as soon as we saw him. The King was an old man, a descendant of a vampire slayer who saved the Kingdom of Cieleta. He wore a white tunic and a maroon cape. A golden crown sat atop his head and a rapier hung at his side. And yet, he didn¡¯t look intimidating. He was thin, his clothes hanging loose around his frail body. His hair had long since begun to fall out and wrinkles from years of worry covered his face. And his eyes, his eyes were empty. ¡°It is my honor to welcome you to this prestigious organization,¡± he wheezed. ¡°For years, the Knights of Cieleta have protected my family and my people.¡± He lifted himself from the throne and hobbled over to us, drawing his rapier and placing it on the woman with a mohawk¡¯s shoulder. He asked for her name, asked her why she joined the Knights, and assigned her to Squad IV. He repeated this process with the other two recruits, placing both of them in Squad III. Then he came to me. ¡°What is your name?¡± he asked while placing his rapier on my shoulder. ¡°Ernest, your majesty,¡± I said. ¡°Ernest James Zuckerman.¡± ¡°Zuckerman,¡± he repeated. ¡°Why have you decided to become a knight, Zuckerman?¡± ¡°I want to be a hero, like my grandfather before me. I want to fight evil and protect the innocent. I want to give hope to the hopeless.¡± A slight smile formed on his face. ¡°I am happy to hear that, Ernest,¡± he said. ¡°Now then, what should we do with you? Squads II and VIII are both in need of swordsman such as yourself.¡± I attempted to hide my frown, but the King saw it anyway. ¡°No, that wouldn¡¯t be right, would it?¡± he said. ¡°I think I¡¯ll place you on Squad V.¡± The king returned to his throne. ¡°The fate of my kingdom is in your hands now,¡± he said. After handing the other recruits over to their respective Captains, Cross took me to Squad V¡¯s barracks, a room full of trunks and bunk beds built located in the palace gate. A dozen knights hung out around the room, chatting, sleeping, or playing card games with one another. Of the twelve knights, I knew only one: an archer by the name of MacDonald who sat alone in a bunk reading a book. Cross cleared his throat and his men came to attention. ¡°I¡¯d like to introduce you to our newest recruit, Private Ernest Zuckerman,¡± he said. ¡°He¡¯ll be working with us for the foreseeable future.¡± One of the Knights, a guy in his twenties with a scraggly beard wearing a red bandana, came up to me and offered his hand. ¡°I¡¯m Lieutenant Connors,¡± he said as I shook his hand. ¡°I¡¯m Calvin¡¯s second in command.¡± ¡°I have a meeting I need to attend,¡± Cross said. ¡°Connors, would you mind introducing Zuckerman to the others?¡± ¡°I¡¯d be happy to, sir.¡± Connors places his arm around my shoulder and led me through the barracks, pointing at people and calling out their names. ¡°That¡¯s Mathews, he¡¯s our monster expert. Over there are Rayburn and Grant, they handle equipment. Carlisle and Hendorf are our resident mages, Kaplan¡¯s our medic, and Marple, Mallory, Rizzo, Harper, MacDonald, and myself all handle combat. Got it?¡± he said in the span of five seconds. I meekly nodded my head. ¡°Great!¡± he said as he led me over to a card table covered in coins. ¡°Up for a little card game?¡± ¡°What game?¡± ¡°Ever played Black Aces?¡± I shook my head as he pulled a deck of playing cards out from under his bandana. Connors shuffled the cards and spread them facedown on the table. ¡°Rules are simple,¡± he said. ¡°We take turns drawing cards. The last card you draw determines how many your opponent draws during their next turn. Face cards are worth ten, and we go until one of us draws an ace.¡± ¡°What happens then?¡± ¡°That¡¯s when things get interesting. If it¡¯s an ace of hearts or diamonds, you win. If its an ace of spades or clubs, you lose.¡± ¡°So it¡¯s just a game of luck?¡± ¡°Is that a problem? At the end of the day, life is nothing more than a game of luck. If I¡¯m going to be fighting alongside you, I¡¯d like to know if you¡¯re lucky enough to be trusted.¡± Connors grabbed a single card from the table and showed it to me. It was the three of clubs. ¡°Draw three, Zuckerman.¡± I pulled three cards from the table, the eight of spades, nine of clubs, and five of diamonds in that order. I breathed a sigh of relief. ¡°Not bad,¡± Connors said as he drew another card. Connors stared at it for a moment before placing it face up in front of me. ¡°Ace of clubs,¡± he said. ¡°Lucky you.¡± A few of the other squad members cheered and patted me on the back. Some of them poked Connors in the ribs and made fun of him for losing to the new guy. Connors rolled his eyes. ¡°Beginner¡¯s luck,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll bet anything he¡¯d lose if we went again.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know about that, I¡¯ve always been pretty lucky,¡± I said. ¡°Why don¡¯t we go again and see which of us is right?¡± Connors raised an eyebrow before smiling. ¡°Okay, but if we¡¯re going to go again we should make it interesting and actually wager something,¡± he said while shoving all of the coins on the table into a neat pile. ¡°When you came in, we were playing cards and I¡¯d just earned a neat sum of money. If I pick up the next black ace, you can have all of the coins on the table. Of course, you¡¯ll have to put up your own wager.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t have anything valuable on me.¡± ¡°Sure you do. That armor¡¯s covered in mud, but I can see that it¡¯s made of some pretty nice metal.¡± Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°This armor is a family heirloom, I can¡¯t give it to you.¡± ¡°Then lend it to me. If you lose, you give me your armor for a week. That¡¯s a fair wager, considering how much money I¡¯ve got on the table. Besides, you¡¯ve always been pretty lucky, right?¡± Connors shuffled the deck and spread it back out on the table. I drew a single card, the king of clubs. ¡°That means you draw ten, right?¡± I said with a smirk. In an instant, Connors swiped ten cards from the table. He held them between his fingers, showing them off to the room. None of them were aces. ¡°Draw two, Ernest,¡± he whispered. I drew a three and an eight. Before I could say anything Connors grabbed his eight cards. He slammed them down on the table. No aces. The final card was a jack. I drew my ten cards, one at a time, my heart pounding in my chest. The other squad members had long since gone silent, entranced by the game. Finally, I drew my final card. It, like each of the cards that came before it, was not an ace. Connors drew six card, I drew four cards, and Connors drew seven cards. Still, an ace did not appear. Four cards remained on the table. Each of which, by process of elimination, was an ace. ¡°Would you look at that?¡± Connors said, a bead a sweat dripping down from his bandana. ¡°You¡¯ve actually been getting pretty lucky with your draws.¡± ¡°There are two red aces left and two black ones left. That means, regardless of what happens, this will determine who wins.¡± I gulped and hovered my hand on one of the cards. Then Connors smiled. It happened in only a fraction of a second, but I saw it. A smile from someone who shouldn¡¯t have known what was on the other side of the card. I moved my hand to the side and picked a different card. It was the ace of spades. Connors let out a deep breath. ¡°That was close, wasn''t it?¡± he said while pushing the cards into a neat pile. ¡°Yeah, it was,¡± I muttered. A few minutes later I found myself sitting on a blanket free bunk, shivering in my underwear while Connors tried on my armor. MacDonald was still on his bed, reading his book. He glanced at me and sighed before tossing me a blanket. ¡°Thank you,¡± I said. ¡°The chattering of your teeth was distracting,¡± he said before returning to his book. I looked over at the other knights. They were testing my armor by hitting Connors in the chest with various weapons. ¡°You know they were hazing you, right?¡± MacDonald said without moving his eyes from his book. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Black aces, it¡¯s a game Connors uses to mess with new recruits. It isn¡¯t the type of game you can actually win.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Did you examine the deck before Connors shuffled it?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°If you did, you would have probably noticed something strange.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°The fact that there are two cards missing.¡± I thought back to the second game. Specifically, I thought about the amount of cards that each of us had drawn. MacDonald was right, there had only been fifty cards instead of the standard fifty-two. ¡°The ace of hearts and ace of diamonds are missing from that deck,¡± MacDonald said. ¡°Because of that fact, it is impossible for you to draw a winning card.¡± ¡°I could have still won if Connors grabbed one of the black aces.¡± ¡°Do you really think he would have done that?¡± I thought back to the end of the game, at the slight smile Connors had made when I hovered over the cards. He knew which cards were black aces. ¡°He put a special mark on the black aces, small enough that you wouldn¡¯t notice it if you weren¡¯t looking for it,¡± MacDonald said. ¡°That way, he can make sure he doesn¡¯t eliminate himself when there¡¯s money on the line. Plus, it allows him to fake a loss when he¡¯s introducing the game to sucker you into playing.¡± ¡°So I was doomed from the start?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t take it personally, Connors does it to all of the new recruits. If it makes you feel better, you came pretty close to messing up his plan. If you¡¯d drawn one of the two cards that wasn¡¯t an ace, you wouldn¡¯t have won, but you would¡¯ve made him own up to his bullshit. How¡¯d you pull that off, anyway?¡± ¡°I got lucky,¡± I said while rubbing my head. Captain Cross came back not long after. Glancing at me, he sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t even want to know,¡± he said. ¡°Do you have a mission for us, sir?¡± Connors asked. ¡°Yes, I do. According to the Temple, a large amount of monsters have appeared in the catacombs beneath the city. Squad V has been tasked with clearing them out. Unfortunately, I have meetings to attend all day, so we will be unable to head out until tomorrow morning.¡± ¡°We can handle it without you,¡± Connors said with a smile. ¡°Besides, we¡¯ve got the new guy to fill in for you.¡± ¡°I was hoping to give Ernest a few weeks of training before sending him out in the field.¡± ¡°I can handle it, sir,¡± I said while jumping to my feet. ¡°I¡¯ve been training for ten years. I¡¯m more than ready.¡± Cross glanced around the room. ¡°Well, if you think you can handle this, I see no reason to stand in your way,¡± he said. I borrowed a leather tunic from one of the other squad members and set out on my first mission. We left the palace and traveled through the streets of the Capital. It was a sunny day and the city was bustling with people working and walking about. We received smiles and waves as we passed through the crowds on our way to the Temple. ¡°There¡¯re miles of tunnels beneath the city,¡± Connors said as we walked. ¡°Natural caves, sewers, storm drains, military bunkers, burial crypts, that kind of thing. An interconnected maze of abandoned garbage beneath the city. With the exception of the passageway to the crypts in the Temple basement, all of it¡¯s been closed off. The thing is, these tunnels are monster breeding grounds, so we have to go in and clean them out every once in a while.¡± The Temple stood on the western side of the city. It was a beautiful old building, with marble pillars and stained glass covered spires. Seven stone statues stood in front of the church, effigies of the seven deities who created the world. A statue of the holy mother, the patron of Cieleta, stood taller than the others. I bowed my head and whispered a quick prayer as I walked past it. Grandfather took me to the Temple throughout my youth. By the time I joined the Knights, I knew each of the clerics by name. The head priestess, Sister Nancy, was a close friend of my grandfather. She greeted me with a hug as soon as I entered the temple. ¡°Congratulations on becoming a knight, Ernest. I¡¯m so proud of you,¡± she said. ¡°Thank you, Sister Nancy,¡± I wheezed. ¡°Would you mind hugging a little less tightly?¡± Sister Nancy led us to the Temple¡¯s basement, a dark room filled with old books. A large iron gate split the room in half. A staircase leading into the crypts sat on the other side of the gate. ¡°Good luck,¡± Sister Nancy said as we descended into the catacombs. I was put in charge of carrying the torch as we traveled through the catacombs. The dim glow of showed me an endless room filled with stone coffins. ¡°The crypts can be a little scary for new recruits,¡± Connors said. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, the people in those boxes are going to stay dead. Probably.¡± Connors led us to a small hole on one of the crypt¡¯s walls. ¡°This leads out of the crypts and into the catacombs proper,¡± he said. As I passed through the hole, I finally saw the walls of the crypt. They were covered in skulls. I screamed and dropped the torch. ¡°The walls!¡± I shouted. ¡°They¡¯re, they¡¯re-¡± ¡°They¡¯re covered in bones, we know,¡± Connors said. ¡°Not an architecture choice I¡¯m especially fond of, if I¡¯m going to be honest.¡± Connors reached down and grabbed the still lit torch. He leaned in and punched me in the stomach. ¡°Don¡¯t drop the torch again, okay?¡± he said. I followed the others through the hole into a tunnel with a circular brick ceiling. A thirty-foot wide, fast flowing river ran through the tunnel, with eight-foot wide concrete walkways on either side. The tunnel stretched as far in both directions. ¡°What is this place?¡± I asked. ¡°It¡¯s an underground river the Knights converted into a storm drain,¡± Connors said. A bat flew out of the darkness, charging at Connors. Without flinching, he drew a pair of playing cards from his bandana and threw them at the bat. The cards pierced the bat¡¯s wings, sending it crashing down in front of him. Connors grabbed a hatchet from his belt and swung it on the bait, cutting off its head. I leaned in and looked at the bat, and noticed that it had two pointy horns protruding from its head and a single red eye in the center of its forehead. A few seconds after Connors decapitated it, its body turned to dust. ¡°That, new guy, is what we call a monster,¡± Connors said. ¡°Keep your eyes open or they¡¯ll get you.¡± Connors held his arm out and the playing cards flew back to his hand. I heard a growling coming from farther down the the tunnel. I held the torch in front of me and shined its light on a large wolf with glowing red eyes and tangled black fur. I drew my sword as the wolf jumped at me. Before I could strike it, an arrow flew by my head and hit the wolf in the eyes. It crashed down next to me and howled in pain. I stabbed it in the stomach and it turned to dust. ¡°You got one, new guy!¡± Connors said while patting me on the back. I looked over my shoulder and saw MacDonald holding his bow. Without a word, he walked over to the dust pile, grabbed his arrow, and placed it back in his quiver. The squad continued through the tunnel, killing any monsters we came across. About a mile from where we entered, we came across a side tunnel. We walked through it and came across a circular cistern, with pillars stretching to the ceiling and an ankle deep pool of water. Our feet created ripples that spread through the water. As we reached an archway on the other end the cistern, Connors raised his hand and signaled for us to stop. We stopped, but the ripples kept traveling across the surface of the pool. In fact, the seemed to get stronger as time went on. That¡¯s when I heard it, the deep thud of large feet stomping through the tunnel. I turned around to see a fifteen-foot tall man with green skin, a large belly, and a mouth full of sharp teeth. It held a large club, the size of a tree trunk, in its oversized hand as it slowly walked towards us. ¡°It¡¯s an ogre,¡± someone whispered. Connors walked forward. ¡°Stand back, I¡¯ve got this,¡± he said as he threw his hatchet. The hatchet curved between the pillars and struck the ogre in the back of the head. Connors smiled. ¡°Bullseye,¡± he said. Those were the last words he ever spoke. The ogre, enraged, charged at us and swung its club down at Connors. The force of the blow sent him crashing through one of the stone pillars, landing in the pool of water. His bandana, knocked from his head, fluttered down into a pile of blood and playing cards. I dropped the torch and ran. Chapter V - Rescued, or: the unexpected meeting in the dark My heart thumped a thousand beats a minute as I ran from the Ogre. I bolted out of the cistern and into the unrelenting darkness of the catacombs. My eyes were useless. My ears heard the screams. I knew that I should¡¯ve turned back. I knew that Connors and his men were dying. But my legs, my legs wouldn¡¯t stop running. I was afraid, more afraid than I¡¯d ever been in my short life. I kept running until I fell into the river. The river swept me away, dragging me deeper into the labyrinth beneath the city. I struggled to keep my head above water as water filled my lungs. A million thoughts ran through my head, thoughts of Squad V and the Ogre and my fear. I slipped beneath the surface of the rushing river and reached for salvation that would not come. I closed my eyes and accepted my fate. Then it came, from the unrelenting darkness. A hand reaching into the river to save me. It drug me onto the shore of the river. ¡°Now is not your time, Ernest,¡± a voice whispered as I passed from consciousness. I came to sometime later, long enough later that my clothes had dried out. Someone had built a small fire for me. My grandfather''s sword sat by the fire. I grabbed it and returned it to its sheath. Suddenly, I heard groaning and footsteps coming from beyond the light of the fire. I drew my sword and prepared myself for combat. An unnerving specter walked out of the darkness. It looked like a man but clearly was not one. Its eyes were lifeless and its mouth hung open as it walked. It wore in tattered clothing covered in blood stains. And the smell, the smell was so foul that no description could possibly do it justice. ¡°Who are you?¡± I shouted. The creature didn¡¯t respond. Instead, it growled and lunged at me, trying to sink its teeth into my throat. I sunk my blade into its heart. It didn¡¯t seem to mind and continued walking towards me, teeth chattering and slobber dripping from its lips. I pulled my sword out of its chest and split its torso in two. Instead of blood, a thick black substance poured from its wounds as the top half of its body fell to the ground. I backed up, not wanting to get the black blood on my clothes. As I walked away, a bony hand grabbed my ankle. I glanced over my head at the creature. It was still moving, crawling towards me with its rotting arms. I raised my sword and prepared to strike. Before I could bring my sword down, an arrow flew through the darkness and struck the creature in the temple. I looked at the source of the arrow, a bruised and bloody MacDonald holding his bow. ¡°Zombie worms,¡± he muttered. ¡°They¡¯re disgusting monsters. They burrow into the brains of dead bodies and control them like puppeteers. Only way to get rid of them is to destroy the brain they inhabit.¡± MacDonald walked over to the fire and grabbed a burning log. ¡°Nice fire,¡± he said as he walked off into the darkness. ¡°Wait!¡± I said while running after him. ¡°Did you drag me out of the river?¡± He raised an eyebrow and kept walking. ¡°It¡¯s good that another member of the squad managed to get out of that shitshow,¡± he said. ¡°How¡¯d you survive?¡± ¡°I fell into the river and was swept away. I would¡¯ve drowned, but someone drug me out of the river.¡± ¡°You sure about that?¡± ¡°Yes! They whispered now is not your time in my ear and built that fire. I¡¯m sure of it.¡± ¡°Sounds kinda unlikely.¡± I sighed and decided to drop it. ¡°How did you survive?¡± I asked. ¡°I was hanging in the back, so I could get good shots in,¡± MacDonald said. ¡°Didn¡¯t get any on account of the lights going out, but I was far enough away that I was able to dig a tunnel and get away before the Ogre killed me. The thing is, I dug into an old passageway and fell into the lower parts of the catacombs. I¡¯ve been making my way back up for about two hours now, but the monsters have kept me from making any real progress.¡±Stolen story; please report. ¡°Hold on,¡± I said. ¡°You dug a tunnel through a stone floor and are calling me out for having an unlikely survival story.¡± MacDonald ignored me and kept walking through the tunnels. ¡°Do you think any of the others survived?¡± I asked. ¡°You enjoy hearing yourself talk, don¡¯t you?¡± he said. ¡°Just answer the question.¡± MacDonald sighed. ¡°No, I don¡¯t think any of the others are still alive,¡± he said. ¡°Connors was thrown at a stone pillar with enough force to break it in half. Anyone who was caught by the Ogre died.¡± ¡°What if they managed to get out of the Cistern before it caught them?¡± MacDonald stopped and looked at me. ¡°You were the one holding the torch, weren¡¯t you?¡± he asked. I nodded my head. MacDonald ran his hand through his hair and rolled his eyes. ¡°Is that what this is about?¡± he said. ¡°Are you trying to relieve your guilt by pretending that you didn¡¯t hear the screams?¡± ¡°If I hadn¡¯t run away, if I hadn¡¯t dropped the torch-¡± ¡°Okay, I¡¯m nipping this in the bud right now. You fucked up and people died. Deal with it. Don¡¯t pretend it didn¡¯t happen, don¡¯t throw yourself a pity party, just accept that it happened and try to be better going forward.¡± ¡°I understand,¡± I muttered. ¡°If it¡¯s any solace, I¡¯m pretty sure they were doomed regardless of what you did. Fighting something as strong as an Ogre in that small of a space was a death sentence. You certainly didn¡¯t help things, but it¡¯s not like you were the sole reason they died.¡± We walked in silence for a while. Eventually, we came across a pile of rocks blocking our path, rubble from a collapsed section of the tunnels. ¡°I guess we¡¯ll have to go back, try and find another path to the surface,¡± I said. ¡°Hold this,¡± MacDonald said as he handed me the torch. MacDonald got down on his knees and placed his hands on the rocks. A silver glow spread from his fingertips, covering the rubble. Slowly, the rocks changed shape, reforming into a stone archway we could walk through. ¡°That was incredible,¡± I said. ¡°How did you do that?¡± MacDonald pulled back the arm of his shirt, revealing a brand of the word Reforge on his forearm. I knew from a glance what the brand was. It was a Verse, a unique ability granted by the Gods. A powerful magical ability that only the greatest Knights possessed. ¡°My Verse allows me to reshape stone and metal by touching it,¡± MacDonald said. ¡°Not the most useful ability in a fight, but it¡¯s pretty helpful in situations like this.¡± MacDonald took the torch and walked through the archway. ¡°Wait,¡± I shouted as I chased after him. ¡°If you can reshape stone, can¡¯t you just dig a path to the surface?¡± Without a word, MacDonald walked over and placed his palm on the tunnel wall. The bricks changed shape, spreading apart to create a staircase leading into the wall. Then, a flood of water burst from the staircase, rushing down the steps. MacDonald and I jumped to the side to avoid getting soaked. ¡°These tunnels are too interconnected for me to dig a way out without getting soaked,¡± MacDonald said as he resealed the staircase. ¡°Better to take the long way around and avoid drowning.¡± I glanced at the stone floor of the walkway. Most of the water spilled from the staircase was moving towards the river, as I expected. But some of it, just a small amount, trickled in a different direction, seeping down into a crack in the floor. Upon closer inspection, the water dripped down through a square-shaped outline on the floor. I reached down and touched the square-shaped outline. I discovered that the outline was the product of a square tile in the floor. I lifted the tile to reveal a ladder leading into a small room. ¡°What do you think this is?¡± I asked. ¡°These tunnels contain hidden bunkers, meant to be used in the event that the city comes under attack,¡± MacDonald said. We crawled down the ladder into the dark room. From the light of the torch, we saw walls covered in weapons and crates full of medical supplies and military gear. MacDonald popped the lid off of one of them and began digging around. ¡°What are you looking for?¡± I asked. ¡°Something we can use to help get out of here,¡± he replied. He pulled out a pair of green goggles and placed them over his eyes. He smiled. ¡°What is that?¡± I asked. ¡°Darkvision goggles,¡± he said. ¡°Expensive magical gear, gives the wearer the ability to see in the dark.¡± He tossed me a pair and I put them on. ¡°Now we don¡¯t have to worry about carrying the torch while fighting,¡± I said. MacDonald pushed the crates out of the way and found an old map showing the layout of the tunnels. ¡°There¡¯s a quick path to the surface nearby,¡± he said. ¡°All we have to do is climb a part where the storm drain falls into the river.¡± I grabbed a blue circular shield hanging from the wall. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here,¡± I said. MacDonald and I followed the map through the tunnels, taking side paths when necessary until we reached the meeting point. Water fell thirty feet from the end of the man-made storm drain into the natural river. MacDonald placed his hands on the rock wall by the storm drain and used his Verse to create a series of handholds for us to climb. As we began to scale the stone wall, I heard splashing. I turned my head just in time to see a creature in the water holding a trident. I jumped from the wall as it through the trident, blocking it with my shield. As I landed, I pulled the trident back and threw it to the side. Three blue heads, covered in scales, stared at me from the river. The creatures walked through the water and onto the shore of the river. The three creatures looked like a mix between a man and a fish. They had large jaws full of pointed teeth, sharp claws, and webbed feet, but lacked any eyes. One of them held a trident. It pulled its arm back and threw the trident at me. I held my shield up to protect myself. This action proved needless when MacDonald placed his hands on the ground and raised a wall of stone to protect me. ¡°Thanks,¡± I shouted as I hurdled over the wall. Drawing my sword, I struck down two of the creatures. The third was finished by an arrow provided by MacDonald. All three of the creatures faded to dust, leaving their tridents as the only remnants of their existence. ¡°Those were Sandcrawlers,¡± MacDonald said. ¡°They¡¯re monsters that live in rivers and lakes. They fight using weapons taken from their victims.¡± ¡°They didn¡¯t have eyes,¡± I said. ¡°They¡¯re attracted to loud noises and the smell of blood.¡± I glanced at the waterfall. The noise created by the rushing water was much louder than the sound of our footsteps, meaning the Sandcrawlers shouldn¡¯t have tried to attack us. Then I noticed it, a trickle of red in the pouring water. The body fell down the waterfall a few moments later. Chapter VII - Recover, or: the pact I made A few days later, I finally woke up. Every inch of my body felt like shit. Fortunately, I wasn¡¯t in the crypt. Some knights had found me and brought me to the temple, where the clerics tended to my wounds using their magic. The first thing I saw when I woke up was MacDonald, lying in the bed next to mine. His legs were covered in casts and his face was covered in bruises, but he was alive. ¡°Hey,¡± I muttered. ¡°How bad do you feel?¡± ¡°About as bad as you look,¡± he replied. I glanced down at my own body. My armor had been stripped away and most of my body was wrapped in bandages. My right arm was covered in a thick cast and suspended from the ceiling. One of the clerics, a girl shrouded in a white hood, knelt next to me holding a staff. Silently, she summoned healing energy and directed it into my busted arm. ¡°That bad?¡± I joked. The cleric finished healing my arm. ¡°Try moving your fingers,¡± she said. With some effort, I managed to make a fist. ¡°Is that good?¡± I asked. Instead of answering, she brought her staff down on my arm, striking it as hard as she could. I yelped as pain shot through my body. ¡°What the hell is wrong with you?¡± I yelled. She hit me in the arm again. ¡°Stop hitting me in the arm!¡± I shouted. The cleric paused for a moment before striking me in the shin. ¡°That wasn¡¯t what I meant,¡± I yelped. ¡°You¡¯re such an asshole,¡± she said. ¡°Going and getting yourself hurt like that. Nobody knew if you were going to live.¡± At that moment, I finally saw the face beneath the hood, a face so similar to mine. A face with green eyes full of tears surrounded by blonde curls. ¡°Grandpa and I¡¯ve been so worried, Ernest,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Anna,¡± I said before she struck me once more. ¡°I take it the two of you know one another?¡± MacDonald said. ¡°MacDonald, it¡¯s my absolute pleasure to introduce you to my younger sister,¡± I said. ¡°She¡¯s been training with the clerics for a few months now.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you,¡± MacDonald said. ¡°Yeah whatever,¡± Anna said. ¡°What the hell were you thinking, Ernest, agreeing to go down into monster-infested sewers on your first day? You should have waited for them to train you or something.¡± ¡°If I may interject for a moment, Ernest fought admirably in the tunnels,¡± MacDonald said. ¡°He¡¯s still here for a reason.¡± ¡°Is that reason dumb luck?¡± Anna shot back. Sister Nancy walked into the infirmary. ¡°It seems the two of you are feeling better,¡± she said. ¡°How do you feel?¡± ¡°I felt better before Anna started hitting me with her staff,¡± I said. Nancy sighed. ¡°Anna, I¡¯ve told you about this kind of behavior before,¡± she said. ¡°I was going to heal him eventually,¡± Anna said. Sister Nancy sent Anna away. ¡°She¡¯s a skilled healer, but it seems her bedside manner is something we¡¯ll need to work on,¡± she said. ¡°Believe me, I know,¡± I said. Nancy walked over and placed her hands on my arms. ¡°The injuries the two of you sustained in the catacombs was substantive,¡± she said. ¡°We¡¯ve managed to stabilize you, but it will take several months of pain before you¡¯ll be able to fight again, if you even want to.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been through worse,¡± MacDonald said. ¡°Perhaps. Regardless, I wish you luck on the recovery process. May the holy mother watch over you,¡± Nancy said. Nancy left to go tend to some other patients, leaving me and MacDonald alone. ¡°So, we¡¯ve got a break from fighting,¡± I said, trying to start up a conversation.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°I suppose we do,¡± MacDonald replied. ¡°I¡¯m not sure how I feel about that. On one hand, I really don¡¯t want to have to face another ogre anytime soon. On the other hand, I have a feeling we¡¯ll end up doing something boring like paperwork or cleaning for the Knights once we¡¯re healthy enough to go back.¡± ¡°Assuming they want us back, of course.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked. ¡°The Knights don¡¯t exactly have a track record of being friendly to the sole survivors of massacres. It¡¯s likely that there are those out there who will label us as cowards, or perhaps even traitors who killed our own squad mates,¡± MacDonald said bitterly. ¡°That¡¯s absurd, who could believe something so obviously untrue?¡± I asked. ¡°Your naivety is charming.¡± ¡°The knights will take us back. They have to.¡± ¡°Perhaps. Of course, that raises another question: do you even want to return to the knights? You¡¯ve seen first hand the horror that we endure. No one would blame you for wanting to quit.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t do that. I need to be part of the knights.¡± ¡°Why?¡± I sighed. ¡°Ever since I was a little kid, I wanted to be a hero,¡± I said. ¡°I wanted to slay monsters and fight dark mages and make the world a better place. I wanted to avenge those who died in the Purge. I wanted to fight for the greater good like my father and grandfather before me. The knights are the only way I can accomplish that dream.¡± Captain Cross arrived not long after MacDonald and I had our talk. Part of me expected for him to be angry at me and MacDonald for failing to protect the rest of Squad V. Instead, he was just sad. I think something inside him broke a little when he heard that Squad V had perished. ¡°I blame myself for what happened,¡± he said in a quiet voice. ¡°I could have protected you two if I had been there.¡± ¡°It isn¡¯t your fault, sir,¡± I said. ¡°No, it is. I should have sent scouts into the tunnel to make sure it was safe. I should have asked another Squad to accompany you. I should have been there instead of sitting in on some stupid meeting. There are a million things I could have done that could have prevented this.¡± Cross got down on his knees. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry,¡± he said. ¡°Get off your knees, soldier,¡± a voice said from the doorway. Cross turned around to see Anna and my grandfather standing in the doorway of the infirmary. ¡°It isn¡¯t fitting for the Captain of Squad V to wallow on his knees and beg for forgiveness,¡± Grandfather said. ¡°Captains are supposed to command respect, to be someone their troops can look up to.¡± ¡°To be fair, there isn¡¯t really much of a Squad left to look up to him,¡± Anna quipped. ¡°Nonsense. I see two fine soldiers right here.¡± Grandfather walked over and placed his hand on my shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s good to see that you¡¯re awake,¡± he said. ¡°I would have come sooner, but the clerics wouldn¡¯t let me in until you were stable.¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± I said. ¡°I take it your first day didn¡¯t go that well?¡± he said. ¡°No, not really,¡± I said. ¡°Welcome to being a Knight,¡± he said. ¡°You get the shit beat out of you, you watch people die, and you pray that you don¡¯t join them. But, even as I say that, I have a feeling you still want to be a knight, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± I said. Grandfather sighed. ¡°I¡¯m starting to regret teaching you how to fight,¡± he said. ¡°Honestly, your teachings saved my life. Well, your teachings and MacDonald, if I¡¯m going to be honest.¡± Grandfather turned and looked at MacDonald. ¡°You¡¯re MacDonald, I assume?¡± he said. ¡°That¡¯s correct,¡± MacDonald said. ¡°Thank you for protecting my grandson.¡± Grandfather scratched his chin. ¡°MacDonald, where do I know that name from?¡± he muttered. I turned and looked at Captain Cross. ¡°Captain, I wouldn¡¯t mind staying on your Squad, if you¡¯d let me,¡± I said. Cross sighed. ¡°I¡¯m flattered,¡± he said, ¡°But I don¡¯t know if that will be possible. Firebrand is going to be stopping by soon, and I have a feeling he¡¯ll relieve me of my command.¡± Ten minutes later, Firebrand showed up to talk to Cross. ¡°Calvin, would you mind meeting with me in the hallway?¡± he said. ¡°There¡¯s no reason to keep this private,¡± Grandfather said. ¡°I have a feeling what you¡¯re about to say will affect these boys as much as it affects Calvin.¡± ¡°Fine,¡± Firebrand said. ¡°We¡¯re dissolving Squad V.¡± ¡°What?¡± I yelled. ¡°Relax, kid. You aren¡¯t fired, you¡¯re just going to be moved to a new Squad. As for Cross, he¡¯ll be placed on administrative leave until we figure out what we want to do with him.¡± ¡°But, Captain Cross hasn¡¯t done anything wrong!¡± Firebrand rubbed his temples. ¡°Look, kid, I know you mean well, but Squad V is gone,¡± Firebrand said. ¡°You can¡¯t have a Squad without any members.¡± ¡°There are still three of us,¡± I said. ¡°Ernest, let it go,¡± Cross said. ¡°I¡¯m not thrilled about this, but it¡¯s something that has to happen.¡± ¡°We can rebuild it, we can get new members,¡± I said. ¡°I can¡¯t move members of other Squads to Squad V, and I¡¯m not about to give you every single new recruit,¡± Firebrand said. ¡°We can find our own members,¡± I said. ¡°That would work,¡± Cross said. Firebrand sighed. ¡°You know what? Fine,¡± he said. ¡°Squad V can stay. You won¡¯t get any new recruits, and we¡¯ll only give you bottom tier missions, but you can stay if it¡¯s so important to you.¡± Firebrand left, annoyed. Captain Cross offered me his hand. ¡°Thank you, Ernest,¡± he said. ¡°That was a kind thing to do for someone you just met.¡± ¡°My grandfather said you were a good friend of his, that means your a good person,¡± I said. ¡°Besides, it didn¡¯t seem right for the great Squad V to end like this.¡± Anna, Cross, and my grandfather stayed for several hours, chatting with me and MacDonald. Eventually, Sister Nancy sent them away, saying MacDonald and I needed our rest. ¡°Can I ask you a question?¡± I said to MacDonald. ¡°Go ahead,¡± he said. ¡°You never said if you would stay with Squad V or not.¡± ¡°No, I didn¡¯t.¡± ¡°Well, are you?¡± MacDonald ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. ¡°I¡¯ll stay,¡± he said. ¡°Why?¡± I asked. ¡°Loyalty to Calvin is part of it, I suppose. Then again, it¡¯s not like I have much of a choice. It¡¯s not like any of the other Squads are exactly jumping to recruit me.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°To make a long story short, I made some mistakes when I was younger. My reputation with the Knights isn¡¯t stellar. I¡¯ve been working to make things right for a long time now.¡± ¡°Why don¡¯t we help each other? I want to be a hero, you want to redeem your reputation. Our goals aren¡¯t that different. We¡¯ll have an easier time if we make a pact to work together.¡± I sat up and offered MacDonald my hand. ¡°Together?¡± I asked. He smiled and shook my hand. ¡°Together,¡± he said. I leaned back in my bed. ¡°It¡¯s Sterling, by the way,¡± MacDonald said. ¡°What¡¯s sterling?¡± ¡°My name. You asked down in the tunnels.¡± I grinned. ¡°You know, Sterling, I think this¡¯ll be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.¡± There is not a single man who has affected my life more than Sterling MacDonald. That mysterious archer with the messy black hair and that old bow was always behind my side, through good times and bad. Chapter VI - Return, or: the time I couldnt stop running MacDonald and I pulled the body out of the river and looked it over. Much to my dismay, I recognized the corpse¡¯s scraggly beard, red bandana, and borrowed mithril armor. ¡°Connors,¡± I muttered. His bones were shattered, with parts jutting out from beneath the plates of armor. His skin was slimy and cold from the trip through the river. MacDonald started taking off Connors¡¯s plate mail and placing it in a pile on the side of the river. ¡°What are you doing?¡± I asked. ¡°It¡¯s your armor,¡± MacDonald replied. ¡°Figured you¡¯d want it back.¡± ¡°What good will it do? That Ogre killed Connors in a single strike.¡± ¡°Are you sure about that? The last time the two of us saw Connors, his body was lying in the cistern. The body being here means that it was moved to the river. Do you think it¡¯s possible Connors survived that first blow?¡± ¡°The Ogre could have thrown his body into the river.¡± ¡°Perhaps. But that doesn¡¯t sound like something an Ogre would do, and it doesn¡¯t explain this,¡± MacDonald said as he leaned down and inspected the bandana. ¡°Connors¡¯s bandana flew off when he got hit.¡± ¡°Yet it is currently tied around his head. Even if the Ogre¡¯s massive fingers were precise enough to wrap a small piece of fabric around its victims head, it still would have no reason to do so. Connors, on the other hand, considered the bandana to be a good luck charm, and may have retied it if he was on the brink of death.¡± ¡°Connors didn¡¯t die when the Ogre hit him, meaning that the armor protected him, if only enough to buy him a few more minutes of life.¡± MacDonald handed me one of the gauntlets. ¡°Take it,¡± he said. ¡°I wield a bow, meaning it¡¯ll do more good to you than it will to me.¡± I suited up in the armor. It felt wrong, wearing clothes taken from a dead man, but I really didn¡¯t have many options. I leaned down and took Connors¡¯s bandana and placed it in my pocket. I glanced over at MacDonald. ¡°Do you want to say anything before we leave the body?¡± I asked. MacDonald didn¡¯t say anything and pushed the body into the river with his foot. ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a no,¡± I muttered. We scaled the waterfall and made our way through the tunnels, inching closer and closer to the surface. ¡°The only way to the surface on the map is the one beneath the Temple, meaning we¡¯ll have to go through the cistern again,¡± MacDonald said. ¡°Is there another route to the Temple on the map?¡± MacDonald looked over the map again. ¡°There is, but it¡¯d take several days worth of travel without food through dark passageways filled with unknown monsters. I think the best course of action would be to go through the cistern and hope the Ogre has left.¡± ¡°And if it hasn¡¯t?¡± ¡°We try and slip by and hope it doesn¡¯t kill us.¡± We walked in silence for a few minutes. ¡°Do you have any family?¡± I asked. ¡°Why do you want to know?¡± ¡°Because we¡¯ve been helping each other out, and we might die soon, and we really don¡¯t know anything about each other. Plus, if I was going to die, I¡¯d want my sister and grandfather to know that I¡¯d been thinking about them in my final moments.¡± ¡°Are you superstitious?¡± MacDonald asked. ¡°Not really, why?¡± I replied. ¡°Because a superstitious man would tell you to shut up before you jinxed us.¡± ¡°Sorry.¡± MacDonald sighed. ¡°To answer your question, I have family, but my relationship with them is complicated,¡± he said. ¡°I doubt that they would be especially upset by my death.¡± I didn¡¯t know how to respond to that. We followed MacDonald¡¯s map to the cistern, fighting off any monster we encountered along the way. Eventually, we reached the place where I¡¯d fallen into the river. Slowly, I peeked my head into the entrance of the cistern. The Ogre lied on its back in the center of the cistern, its fat belly blocking most of my view. Still, I was able to make out the carnage. Eleven bodies were spread among the pillars, lying in the shallow water. The remains of Squad V. I pulled my head back and struggled to avoid vomiting.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. ¡°Is the Ogre in there?¡± MacDonald whispered. I nodded my head. ¡°And Squad V?¡± MacDonald asked. I shook my head. ¡°They¡¯re gone,¡± I muttered. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± MacDonald sighed. ¡°We should double back and find another route to the surface,¡± he said. ¡°No,¡± I said. MacDonald raised an eyebrow. ¡°No?¡± ¡°That monster killed eleven people because I screwed up. I¡¯m not going to run away while it¡¯s still alive. It¡¯s my duty to kill it,¡± I said. ¡°Besides, the cistern is close to the crypt beneath the Temple. If the Ogre makes its way to the surface, more people will die.¡± MacDonald ran his fingers through his hair. ¡°How exactly do you plan to kill that thing?¡± he asked. ¡°Simple. It¡¯s asleep right now. I¡¯ll just walk up and stab it in the stomach.¡± ¡°That won¡¯t work. That thing¡¯s skin is incredibly thick-¡± ¡°My sword is incredibly sharp.¡± ¡°Even so, a tiny stab wound is more likely to annoy it than kill it. If you stab it¡¯ll just wake up and step on you.¡± I mulled over strategy for a few moments. ¡°What about using your Verse?¡± I asked. ¡°You said we couldn¡¯t use it because it might cause the tunnel to collapse or flood. What if we snuck through the cistern and then collapsed it in on the Ogre?¡± ¡°That might work,¡± he said. We snuck into the cistern and slowly walked past the Ogre, being careful to avoid waking it. We spoke no words and were careful to keep our footsteps from being too loud. But, we neglected to avoid one thing. Ripples from our feet traveled through the water and awakened the beastly Ogre. It sat up and opened its golden eyes. It stared at me and I struggled to avoid screaming. As it crawled to its feet and squinted at me, I staid still, hoping that it would go back to sleep. The Ogre grabbed its club and swung. The club struck a pillar behind me, breaking it in half. The broken pieces of the pillar crashed down next. The Ogre brought its club down once more, striking the shattered pieces of the pillar as I leaped to the side. An arrow flew through the air and lodged itself in the Ogres ear. It roared in pain and swung its club wildly as I ran away. ¡°Its eyes don¡¯t work well enough in the dark to tell the difference between us and the pillars!¡± MacDonald yelled. ¡°It¡¯s navigating using noise right now!¡± I wondered what he was doing, shouting while fighting an enemy that attacked loud noises. For a moment, I thought he was crazy. Then I realized that he knew exactly what he was doing. The Ogre stopped looking for me and charged at MacDonald. MacDonald slipped past a pillar, touching it as he ran by. As the Ogre closed in, the pillar fell apart, collapsing into a pile of rocks. The sound of the falling rocks masked the sound of the MacDonald¡¯s footsteps, allowing him to slip away from the Ogre. MacDonald darted towards the center of the cistern. ¡°Hey ugly, I¡¯m over here!¡± he shouted. The Ogre chased him, club raised in the air. I ran behind the Ogre and sliced the back of its knee. It stumbled to the ground. MacDonald raised the ground beneath my feet, lifting me into the air. I jumped at the Ogre¡¯s head and sliced off its remaining ear. MacDonald and I ran from the cistern as the now blind and deaf Ogre screamed and struck random pillars with its club. When we reached the point where the cistern and side tunnel connected MacDonald placed his hands and knees on the floor. White light spread throughout the cistern, climbing the pillars and covering the ceiling. The Ogre spotted this us using this light and ran for us. It was too late. The ceiling of the cistern caved in, dropping countless tons of stone onto the Ogre¡¯s back. More than enough stone to kill any monster, no matter how big. Unfortunately, the collapse of the cistern spread through the side tunnel, collapsing it around us. MacDonald and I struggled to dodge the falling chunks of rock that fell from the ceiling while we ran for the main tunnel. As we reached the end of the tunnel a rock fell in front of me. I tripped and fell on my chest. MacDonald grabbed my hand and flung me into the main tunnel. He dived after me, landing outside the side tunnel just in time to avoid being crushed by a pile of rubble. ¡°We made it,¡± I wheezed. Then I heard it, a roar from behind the pile of rubble. For just a moment, MacDonald and I locked eyes. From that brief glance, we shared we knew that we both knew the horrific truth. We hadn¡¯t made it, not yet. The Ogre burst through the rubble and struck MacDonald with its club. His body flew down the tunnel like a thrown ball, crashing into the stone floor on the side of the river. The sound his bones made as they broke could only be compared to the sound of an egg being thrown against a stone wall. I raised my shield to block a downward strike from the Ogre. It shattered into a dozen pieces. My arm was blessed with the same fate as my shield. Mercifully, the force of the blow sent me sliding away, ending up twenty feet from the Ogre. I didn¡¯t have time to focus on my pain. I ran as fast as I could, trying to protect the tiny sliver of life I retained. I glanced over my shoulder at the Ogre chasing behind me. Its long legs allowed it to run incredibly fast; with each step, it gained on me. A gigantic stone fist burst from the wall, striking the Ogre in the face and knocking it into the river. Fifty feet away from me I saw what was left of MacDonald, a broken mess of tangled limbs sitting in a pile of his own blood. His hands were pinned on the floor of the tunnel. ¡°Run,¡± he said with broken lungs. I listened and ran as fast as I could. As I passed MacDonald, I glanced over my head once more and saw the Ogre climbing out of the river. I looked at MacDonald behind me. He was practically dead. I was injured. I was scared. The Ogre was gaining on us. And he was telling me to run. Just like the first time I faced the Ogre, I couldn¡¯t stop myself from running. This time, though, I ran back for my ally. I grabbed MacDonald with my remaining arm and pulled him over my good shoulder. ¡°What are you doing?¡± he said. ¡°Saving your life,¡± I said as I ran for the crypt. ¡°You dumbass,¡± MacDonald spat. ¡°Put me down. There¡¯s no reason for both of us to die.¡± ¡°I can think of one reason: people who win at the expense of their allies have no place in this world,¡± I said. ¡°Don¡¯t get yourself killed over a fucking platitude about teamwork! This isn''t a game! It¡¯s real life, people die!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you think I know that? A few hours ago eleven knights, good ones, died while I ran away. I can¡¯t do that again. It isn¡¯t right.¡± ¡°This isn¡¯t the time to grow a backbone!¡± ¡°I always wanted to be a hero. But, if I¡¯m honest, I¡¯m not even close to being worthy of that word. I¡¯m a coward, I¡¯m an idiot, I¡¯m selfish. But you, you saved me. Time and time again you risked your life for mine. You¡¯re a hero, MacDonald. Saving you is the least I can do.¡± MacDonald sighed. ¡°You¡¯re an idiot,¡± he muttered. The heavy footsteps of the Ogre got louder and louder as it closed the gap. I didn¡¯t dare look over my shoulder. After a mile of sprinting, I finally saw the connecting point of the crypt and the tunnel. ¡°Look out!¡± MacDonald shouted with the little strength he had left. I glanced over my shoulder to spot the Ogre swinging his club at us. I turned my body, shielding MacDonald with my chest. For a brief moment, my world went black. I felt like I was drowning as my lungs filled with blood. My heart screamed in pain. I heard a booming noise, louder than anything I¡¯d ever heard before. I opened my eyes to walls covered in bones. MacDonald and I were lying in the crypt. My arms were still wrapped around his limp body. I glanced at the entrance of the catacombs to discover a wall of stone. ¡°The last blow from the Ogre knocked us in here and I used my Verse to collapse the tunnel,¡± Sterling whispered. I looked back at his empty eyes. ¡°That¡¯s fantastic,¡± I mumbled before fading from consciousness.